


Playing Nurse

by FireSoul



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: Even superheroes can get sick. Amaya learns this the hard way after a mission to a hospital in 2011. So now she's stuck on bed rest and lots of fluids, and for whatever reason Mick has taken it upon himself to care for her.





	1. Chapter 1

There were many advantages, in Amaya’s opinion, to traveling with people who came from the future. For starters they were from a time where women could dress in pants and jackets like men if they so chose to and no one would bat an eye. Sure her Vixen outfit was fairly ahead of its time, but while not on duty with the JSA she always found herself adhering, begrudgingly, to the societal norms and standards for women. On the Waverider she found that she much more enjoyed dressing in jeans and fitted shirts, almost always accompanied by a leather jacket. Then the fact that Sara had been elected as Captain was no small feat to her, as even though her fellow members in the JSA respected her on equal par with the men she knew better than to believe any of them would ever take an order from her. Entertaining herself during down time was also far easier with access to an activity other than knitting, which she hated. She wasn’t glued to a tablet screen like she often found Ray, but that isn’t to say she never used one. She had Nate teach her how to play some of the pre-downloaded games and he warned her never to bother with the in app purchases because not only were they non-functional unless in 2016, some kind of temporal displacement he didn’t really understand, but most of them were a waste of money anyway.

 

But there were also some disadvantages to being from the past.

Amaya wouldn’t really view it as a bad thing that Gideon refused to tell her or the crew anything about her own future, the crew because the AI rightly guessed that they would accidentally reveal the information. One thing that annoyed her was constantly being the butt-end of a joke because of something she didn’t know, or someone needing to take extra time out of a group discussion to explain something to her. These things made her feel like an ignorant child, but with a seventy-four year difference between herself and her teammate’s presents it sometimes just couldn’t be helped. But one disadvantage that Amaya was, quite literally, becoming painfully aware of was human evolution.

 

They had just passed through 2011 on an easy enough mission to stop their, now usual, adversaries from getting in the way of a major drug bust. The problem is that the drug ring was primarily within a hospital and involved Amaya undercover as a nurse, Stein as a doctor, and Mick as a janitor. Now being from 2016 Stein and Mick, along with their other teammates who obviously came in contact with them, have either been vaccinated from most diseases or built up a sufficient immunity to them. But as humans evolve so do many of their microscopic enemies, and Amaya was quickly discovering that her 20th century immune system hadn’t been enough to fight off a 21st century virus.

 

She lasted about an hour or two after the mission before her skin began feeling cold with fever, if such a thing makes any sort of sense. Hoping it was nothing major she opted to turn in early, thinking that maybe she could sleep off whatever was bothering her. Well that idea was shot to hell when she woke up in the middle of the night and wasted no scrambling out of bed, slamming her hand against the wall scanner to open her door and bolting down the hall only to just barely make the turn into the bathroom and hit her knees in front of the toilet before her dinner came surging back up and out. Amaya brought her head back up once she was done, for the moment, and sucked in a greedy breath of air untainted by the smell of toilet water. With a groan and admittedly a curse she reached out and flushed the toilet, and as soon as the wretched contents of the bowl were replaced with clean water Amaya found herself gagging and heaving all over again. When she felt as though she were finished she tentatively reached up and flicked down the handle of the toilet for the second time. This time instead of gasping for fresh air Amaya was careful to breath in calmly and steadily as so to avoid becoming sick for a third time.

 

Once Amaya felt confident that she wouldn’t be sick again she climbed shakily to her feet and trudge back to her room, hoping that this incident wouldn’t repeat itself.

 

It did, less than an hour later.

 

The second time went much like the first, right down to Amaya being in too much of a hurry to bother closing the bathroom door behind her. But this time she wasn’t all that lucky in the department of privacy.

 

She was just starting to recover from the bout of sickness, the toilet flushed and her breath coming in heavy but even pants, when the heavy footfalls of boots approached the doorway. She hoped that whoever it was would simply pass her by, and she briefly contemplated scrambling to close the doors but either she didn’t have the strength or she simply didn’t care enough. Whatever the reason she seriously regretted it when Mick Rory of all people came to a stop in the doorway. The two of them had a rocky relationship at best, and while she thought they might be starting on a path to friendship she found herself very uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze.

“You look like hell,” he finally deadpanned in that low rumble of a voice that he has.

Amaya outright laughed at his blunt statement; she hadn’t looked in the mirror since coming in here but she could only assume that her fever flushed face and matted hair didn’t make for a very attractive sight.

“I feel like it,” She retorted, leaning back against the bathtub with confidence that she was through throwing up for the time being. “What are you doing up so early?” She asked, she didn’t expect him to suddenly look so awkward about the question until she realized that the current “time”, determined by the ship having been set to 2016 Central City time when in the temporal zone, was two in the morning and they were currently having this conversation in the bathroom. “Right,” she said, pushing herself to her feet and hoping that Mick didn’t notice when she needed a few extra seconds to gather her bearings. If he did he didn’t say anything, and for that she was grateful.

 

 

“Where’s Amaya?” Ray questioned when everyone gathered in the galley for breakfast in the morning and their newest recruit was strangely absent.

“I believe I saw Ms. Jiwe heading away from the restroom not too long ago,” Stein supplied, “She assured me that she was alright but to be honest I do think that she looked rather pale.”

Mick’s attention perked with a little bit of interest at the professor’s words, his mind suddenly flashing back to last night when he walked in on her pulling her head out of the toilet.

“Do you think she picked something up in 2011?” Nate asked,

“Maybe, but none of us did.” Jax replied.

“As far as we know,” Sara countered the kid’s comment.

 

The others kept on talking, but Mick was no longer listening. Instead he popped some bread into the toaster and once it was finished he set it on a plate and left the room, unsure and uncaring as to if any of the others even noticed or not. He made his way to the barracks and soon found himself standing outside of Amaya’s closed door. A part of him, some little voice in the back of his mind, reminded him that right now was his last chance to turn back. He could just keep walking and go to his own room, Amaya would never know. But what was he running away from? Bringing a sick teammate dry toast? That didn’t seem so scary. So it was with that thought in mind that he raised one fist and knocked on the door, receiving a groan from the other side in response.

 

Taking the groan as permission to enter Mick pressed his free hand to the scanner and the doors swished open, revealing a very disheveled looking Amaya on the other side.

She was lying on her back in her bed, her sheets pooled by her bare feet in a messy pile at the end of the mattress. Her pajama’s consisted of a pair of red cotton pants and a grey sweatshirt, although he could’ve sworn she had been wearing a tank top when he saw her last night. But her hair lay around her face in a rumpled mess and her face was contorted in discomfort, so it was safe to say that any doubts of her being sick were put to rest by the sight of her.

“What?” She asked in a weak voice, cracking open one eye to look at the burly man standing in her doorway and holding a plate.

Mick merely held the plate out to her and walked over to the bed in response, showing her that the plate contained two pieces of bland toast, which Amaya eyed with disgust and pushed away.

“Come on,” Mick insisted, “You should eat something.”

“Can’t keep anything down,” She replied, looking more and more repulsed by his offering with every second.

With a huff Mick set the plate down on the foot of her bed, as she had no bedside table.

“You should go to the med bay,” he mused and Amaya groaned at the thought of leaving her bed, especially after a long night of running back and forth from it to the toilet.

Apparently Mick didn’t take the long drawn out sound of misery as a no. Instead he offered her his hand and when she refused he lightly grabbed her hand anyway and began pulling her up.

“Come on,” he coaxed, she whined as he pulled her to a sitting position and eventually to her feet. “Yeah, you say that now but if Gideon turns out to be able to do something for ya, you’ll be thanking me.” He said this partly to her and partly to himself while pulling her along.

She shook her hand from his grip once he had her on her feet, deciding that so long as she was up she might as well do as he says.

 

He walked beside her through the halls of the Waverider, and thankfully they didn’t pass any of their teammates on the way to the med bay. A little more than halfway there, however, Amaya was taken by surprise when her stomach suddenly turned violently against her and her body obeyed the instinct to hunch over with one hand flying to her mouth as though it could minimize the damage. She gagged once but nothing else happened, as if her will to not make a huge mess in the middle of the hallway, and in front of Mick, were enough to keep down anything left inside of her stomach.

Mick froze at the sudden convulsion of Amaya’s previously lethargic body, watching her gag painfully and waiting for the worst. But she only shook it off and picked up her pace, determined to make it to the med bay where she could at least grab hold of a trash bin. But she wasn’t so lucky. Two more steps down the hallway and she hit her knees as a yellowish but almost clear bile, the only thing left in her stomach after last night, came splattering onto the floor. At first Mick remained frozen, unsure of what exactly he should do. He wasn’t good at feeling helpless but he wasn’t too sure how Amaya was at taking help in a situation like this. He decided to be cautious in approaching her, lowering himself slowly to his knees beside her and laying one hand as gently as he could on her back in what he hoped was comforting way. She looked up at him immediately, her eyes apologetic as she caught her breath and tried to find her voice.

“I’m sorry,” She said once she found her weak voice again.

“Don’t worry about it,” He assured her, “Think you can make it to the med bay from here?” He asked and with a deep breath she nodded.

Mick was gentle when he helped her to her feet, carefully placing one large hand on the underside of her arm and pulling her up with him. His touch reminded Amaya of the way she used to hold her mother’s glass doll. Why her mother had it she had no idea, she said it was a collectable or something but why she had it was still lost on Amaya. Nevertheless she had always been intrigued by it. She couldn’t play with it the way she could her own dolls, and when she was finally allowed to touch it her mother needed to teach her how. She needed to hold it gently, her fingers hardly applying any pressure less she wanted to break it, but still with a grip firm enough to keep it safe from any obstacle she encountered whilst holding it. That was what Mick’s hold felt like to her; so light that she hardly knew he was touching her, but still so solid that if the ship were to suddenly come under attack right now there would be no chance of him accidently letting her go.

 

They walked the rest of the way to the med bay in silence, Mick never once letting go of Amaya’s arm and her not feeling any need to point it out. When they reached their destination he helped her onto the chair/bed thing, and maybe if she weren’t feeling so lousy Amaya might have drawn the line there and snapped that she didn’t need his help. But honestly she felt like complete and utter crap, and just didn’t have the energy to start that battle.

“Gideon,” Mick called up to the ceiling once Amaya was settled on the examination chair. “Think you could do a scan on Amaya? She’s not feeling too hot.”

“Of course Mr. Rory,” The AI chimed in reply just before a blue light appeared over the chair. The light started at Amaya’s head and slowly scanned down her entire body before it finished at her feet and apparently allowed Gideon to reach a conclusion regarding her patient’s condition. “It appears that Ms. Jiwe is suffering from Gastroenteritis, commonly referred to as the Stomach Flu. I can recommend ample rest and fluids as treatment, as well as limited contact with other members of the crew, as the virus is contagious.”

“Well, she’s already puked all over me.” Mick grumbled in reply to the warning before turning his attention back to Amaya, holding out a hand to her.

“Come on,” he prompted when she only looked at the offered hand in curiosity.

“Where are we going?” She asked, although she still accepted his hand and made no protest when he pulled her up and off the chair.

“Back to bed,” he answered, “Gideon said you had to rest, she didn’t say it had to be in here.”

Amaya nodded at the reply and followed him back through the halls until they returned to her room.

 

Pressing her hand to the scanner Amaya opened her door and didn’t object when Mick followed her inside, she didn’t care much about anything once she saw her bed and rumpled blankets. She ignored the plate of bland toast still at the end of the bed, but Mick didn’t, and picked it up just as she crawled onto the mattress. With his free hand he haphazardly draped her blankets over her before setting the plate down beside her.

“I want you to finish that by the time I get back,” He instructed and much like she had earlier Amaya whined at the idea. “Don’t give me that,” Mick reprimanded as he turned to go, “It’ll help your stomach.” He insisted before exiting out the doors.

 

Amaya eyed the plate in disgust, she had absolutely no desire to eat anything right now and that could go double for two slices of cold toast. She rolled over onto her opposite side, admittedly a little annoyed when the slight pull of the blankets as she turned didn’t turn out to be enough to knock the offending plate to the ground. There was nothing she despised more than being sick. She hated not being able to do anything because she lacked the strength, and now she was apparently relying on Mick Rory of all people to take care of her.

_“This is going to be interesting,”_ she thought to herself.

And boy was it ever.

 


	2. Chapter 2

After cleaning up the mess Amaya had left in the hallway Mick returned to her room and hoped very much that the disappointment showed on his face when he saw that she had only taken one, pathetically small, bite out of the toast.

“I’m not hungry!” The woman replied in immediate defense when she saw his face, so clearly his annoyance was obvious.

“You skipped dinner last night,” he reminded her, “You need you eat something, and no offence but I doubt you’ll be able to keep much else down.”

“Can’t I have crackers instead?” She whined and at the considering look on his face she thought that she might actually be getting somewhere. “Come on please. They’re just as good for nausea and nowhere near as gross.” She reasoned and she couldn’t help but smile in victory when Mick nodded and turned to leave again.

 

* * *

 

Mick made his way to the galley and once there he found that most of the team had gone off to their own devices and left only Sara and Haircut behind. The former of the two had a few different maps and charts spread out over the surface of the table, clearly she was looking for something and Mick would bet money that it was something to do with their recently missing amulet. Raymond, on the other hand, was standing over the sink and washing the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher, something that made Mick role his eyes.

“Amaya caught a stomach bug,” he informed the two of them, though mainly Sara. “So if you’re thinking of making a time jump, fair warning that she might not be able to keep her stomach where it belongs.” He said as he located a box of crackers and briefly contemplated the idea of a plate before deciding instead to just take the whole box. He then started to leave but soon remembered how Gideon had said something about fluids, so he backtracked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water before heading out and on his way.

“Ok,” Sara replied as he left and she raised an eyebrow at Ray, who was watching Mick go with astonishment. When the arsonist was out of sight he looked over his shoulder to Sara, who was meeting his shocked gaze with a knowing look.

 

* * *

 

Arriving back at Amaya’s door Mick found it wide open. Curious, he peered into the room but sure enough it was empty. Now opting to glance around the hallway he spotted Amaya coming from the bathroom, he didn’t need to ask what she had been doing in there. He sighed at the sight, fearing that if the sickness were to again overtake her as suddenly as it had on their way to the med bay she might not be able to make to the toilet.

“Ugh,” Amaya groaned as she approached him, one hand still positioned over her mouth.

“Come on,” He said, motioning for her to follow him back towards the bathroom.

She arched an eyebrow when he walked away but followed him nonetheless, curious as to his intentions.

They didn’t go all the way to the bathroom, instead coming to a stop in the doorway of the room that came up right before it, Mick’s room.

“It’s closer to the bathroom,” he reasoned in defense when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” Amaya halfheartedly argued, Mick only shrugged.

“I’ve already cleaned your puke out of the hall, If I’m gonna catch it then I’ve already got it.” He excused and although Amaya frowned at the reminder that she had made a mess in the hallway she did back down from the argument, deciding that it wasn’t worth it.

 

She followed Mick into his room, and while normally she might have been put off slightly by the mess she was much too miserable to care at the moment. Instead she simply looked over at him with eyes that asked where she could go and he just nodded towards the bed. His bed, oddly enough, was the one area of the room that wasn’t overrun with clutter. Now on any other day Amaya surely would’ve had something sarcastic to say about Mick telling her to lie on his bed, not to mention that she most likely would’ve outright refused. But the facts today were that she felt like crap and had no desire to risk not being able to make it to the toilet again, so she obeyed with a murmured “thank you.”

Well sort of.

She took a seat on the bed and smirked when Mick eyed her with a look of disapproval but he said nothing. Instead, he simply tossed her the box of crackers and the water bottle. He then laid a hand gently on her shoulder to guide her down and admittedly was a little surprised when she obeyed, even if it was only because she was exhausted and wanted to lie down. Finally he spread his blankets out over her before going over to settle himself in his recliner.

“Want to have Gideon put a movie on?” He asked, craning his neck over the side of the chair so that he could see her.

She considered the idea for a moment. She doesn’t really know too many movies, and she highly doubts that there are any both she and Mick know.

“Sure,” she answered, “What do you want to watch?”

Mick shrugged in response but didn’t say anything, he hadn’t ahead of time made the connection that he and Amaya probably hadn’t seen any of the same movies.

With a slight groan of misery Amaya, who was currently on her side, rolled onto her back; hoping that maybe the flat position would quell her once again churning stomach.

“Just nothing that involves disease,” she requested, half sarcastically.

Mick nodded before asking Gideon to play the first _Terminator_ movie.

 

* * *

 

 

“Amaya’s got the stomach bug, fair warning.” Sara said as she entered the library to find Nate and the Professor each engrossed with their own books, no doubt doing their own research on the amulet.

“Sucks,” Nate commented absentmindedly, not even bothering to look up from his book.

Stein, on the other hand, gave his fellow researcher a rather disapproving look before turning his attention to Sara.

“Is she alright?” He asked and the blonde sighed while putting away the charts she had been looking at in the galley.

“As alright as someone suffering from both the stomach flu and Mick taking care of them can be.” She replied, earing Nate’s attention with her claim.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up.” He said, “Did you say Mick is taking care of her?” He inquired and Sara nodded with a rather smug look on her face.

Suddenly Nate looked to be some odd mix of very excited and very surprised, before his face suddenly deflated.

“Wait, are they together?” He asked, “Because if their together then that means I owe Ray fifty bucks!” He exclaimed, now finding himself on the receiving end of not one, but two disapproving glares.

“You guys were betting?” Sara asked, more than a little disappointed that she hadn’t known about this, otherwise she would’ve gotten in on it.

“Uhh…” Nate stammered, suddenly regretting having spoken up.

But he didn’t have time to decide between giving an excuse or a confession, because that was the exact moment Jax chose to come through the door.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked upon noticing three of his teammates gathered around the work desk.

Sara opened her mouth to answer but Stein was quick to cut her off before she even got a word out.

“Nothing Jefferson!” He said maybe a little too readily, which both Sara and Nate noticed.

“Apparently Ray and Nate have a bet going on Mick and Amaya.” Sara informed her younger teammate, not noticing how Stein closed his eyes as though he had just been busted.

“Well yeah, we all do.” Jax revealed before realizing his mistake and that no, no not all of them do.

“What?” Sara asked, suddenly eyeing the rather guilty looking Stein and confused looking Nate with a fiery glare.

“Don’t look at me,” Nate said, raising his hands up as though that could somehow prove his innocence. “We made the bet after Japan, while you were changing, I thought somebody told you.” He defended, thus shifting the entirety of Sara’s glare to Stein.

“Well I assumed that someone had!” He spluttered in defense, “But upon hearing your shock at Dr. Heywood’s proclamation I think it’s safe to assume that we forgot. Which you can’t really blame us, considering you weren’t a part of the last bet that-” The act of Sara’s glare intensifying cut him off and made him realize that he had said too much, which seems to be a habit of the old man when he’s nervous.

Jax, whom Sara currently had her back turned to, gave his partner a look of exasperation.

“Last bet?” The blonde inquired, glaring again between Nate and Stein until Nate’s face conveyed the very true message that he had no idea what their older teammate was talking about.

“We may have,” Stein began to confess under the full impact of Sara’s hard gaze, “During our previous mission hunting Vandal Savage, been making wagers on when a romantic relationship might develop between you and…um… Mr. Snart.”

Sara gaped at the older man for a minute, and then two, and almost three before she finally blinked and clamped her parted lips shut.

“Uh well… alright then.” She said before turning awkwardly only to be met with the sight of Jax’s guilty eyes. “I’m just gonna go.” She said as she brushed past him.

“Sara,” He called after her but she ignored him, although she did stop in the doorway. She turned back to them, and the three men could’ve sworn that they saw the very beginning of unshed tears glassing over their captain’s eyes.

“Whoever had just before the Oculus… you won.”

 

* * *

 

By the time the movie ended Amaya had fallen asleep, and Mick had no intentions of waking her. He knew she most likely hadn’t gotten much sleep during the night. She had only hurried off to the bathroom a record one time during the movie, and it had been way back in the first twenty minutes. Getting up from his recliner and stretching Mick glanced at the floor just beneath his bed, taking note of the discarded box of crackers and water bottle lying there. He crept over as quietly as he could and when Amaya didn’t even stir even when he was practically hovering over her he knew the virus was to blame, because a healthy Amaya probably would have woken up the instant he got out of the chair. He frowned when he picked up the box of crackers and discovered that she had barely eaten half a sleeve. But the disappointed expression softened when he lifted the water bottle to see that she had nearly drained the whole thing, one out of two wasn’t too bad. With one last glance at her sleeping form he turned to leave, mind set on getting another bottle of water and maybe giving the toast another shot, when he found himself face to face with a very familiar ghost.

“Now where was this Mick when Lisa had the chicken pox and I needed a sitter?” Snart drawled; his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he leaned against a wrack of shelves Mick had set up next to the door.

Mick rolled his eyes at the familiar drawl; this was not something that he wanted to deal with today. He took a few steps away from the bed, figuring that the further he was from Amaya the less likely she was to wake up.

“Never had the chicken pox remember?” He asked, “She would’ve gotten me sick, and then where would you have been?”

“Maybe not in my room sewing up my own hip, which is where I ended up after telling dear old dad I needed to skip the job to stay with Lisa.”

Mick would not let this figment of his imagination make him feel guilty, not about Amaya, and not about anything else.

“You got to stay didn’t you?” He shot back at the ghost, who surprisingly nodded in acknowledgement.

“Not the point,” he said,

“Then what is the point?” Mick demanded, although he was pretty sure he already knew where this was going.

“You know damn well what the point is Mick.” The apparition snapped, “This isn’t you.” Just like the real Snart his voice was suddenly cool. “You don’t take care of people Mick, you cut them down, make them suffer. You’re going soft-”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He cut off the figment of his imagination. “Because in case you’ve forgotten I burned my parents alive when I was fourteen years old. You’re dead now too, which means your sister is the only person I have back home; and she’s been MIA ever since I broke it to her that you took the place of a guy who had nothing to lose in blowing up a bomb.” He reminded and the ghost remained oddly quiet, patiently waiting for the arsonist to finish. “You had Lisa back home, and don’t think that I didn’t know about your little crush on our new captain.” He said, actually beginning to smile with the belief that he finally had the upper hand in this exchange. “I didn’t have anyone to lose, you did. But yet I’m still here and you’re the one who’s dead. So I’m gonna at least make sure I got something to live for.” He finished, stepping ever closer to ghost Snart to the point where they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Does she know?” The ghost asked with a smirk and that had Mick both backing off and wiping the cocky expression from his own face. “Does. She. Know?” The man before him repeated as his smirk grew even more. “Does she know about everything that you just said?” He questioned, “Does she know that the man who’s bed she’s sleeping in killed his own parents? Does she know that she isn’t the first person to stop you from blowing yourself up?” He asked before he got a wicked gleam in his eyes, a gleam that Mick didn’t like one bit. “Does she know about Chronos?” He asked and at that Mick knew his eyes betrayed the panic that he felt in his chest, and not just because the ghost started pacing the floor with evil amusement. “She can accept the criminal Mick, and I’ll admit that I’m impressed she can accept the animal; but what about the rest?” He asked.

“Shut up,” Mick ordered lowly.

“Can she accept the killer?” Snart asked, unfazed by Mick’s demand. “Can she accept that you once tried, repeatedly, to kill everyone on this team? And sure you didn’t MEAN for your mom and dad to die that night, but you sure as hell didn’t do anything to stop it. Can she accept that?”

“Shut up.” Mick ordered again, more intensely.

“And what about if she were to wake up right now?” Snart questioned and that had Mick glancing over his shoulder in alarm, only for his eyes to fall on Amaya’s still slumbering form.

“Relax, I said _if_.” The ghost clarified, now leaning against the closed doors of the room. “What would she think about her friend, if that’s still the word you’re going with, telling his wall to put a sock in it?”

Mick didn’t respond to that, and instead fought the urge to look over his shoulder for a second time just to make sure that Amaya was still sleeping.

“You said it yourself Mick, I’m nothing but a figment of your imagination.”

“Then why can’t I get you to shut up?” Mick demanded and he really should’ve expected it when he got a smirk before any words in reply.

“Because deep down you know I’m right,” he insisted. “You were never known for making the right decisions, not unless I was right behind you pulling the strings. You spent the better part of your life following my lead Mick, and the one time you didn’t it landed you with an even worse bastard breathing down your neck.” He reminded and that was when the sound of Amaya stirring caught the attention of both Mick and the ghost.

Mick looked over his shoulder, he saw his friend roll onto her side and knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before her eyes opened.

“Well I guess that’s my cue,” The ghost drawled, Mick turned back to him out of habit, but he was already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

When Amaya woke up she saw Mick standing with his back to her, his body strangely ridged as he faced the door as though he were deep in thought. But an involuntary grunt from her, a product of her half-awake state, had him turning around as though whatever had just been running through his mind never existed.

“How long was I asleep?” Amaya asked while rubbing at her eyes and arching her back in a stretch.

Mick shrugged at the question, “A little over an hour?” He guessed and she nodded, that sounded like a reasonably answer. “How ya feeling?” He asked, marking it as her turn to shrug.

“The same,” she said while slowly sitting herself up, fearing that if she rose too quickly she would feel another over whelming sense of nausea. She did feel just slightest bit disoriented for a moment, but it quickly passed and allowed her to focus.

“Is everything ok?” She questioned and he grunted in reply.

“Yeah,” he assured her, though it was all too obvious that he was lying.

“Mick,” she said sternly, her tone all but forcing him to meet her hard gaze. “You can tell me if something’s wrong.” She reminded him and he nodded, but only looked back at the nearly empty water bottle in his hand.

“I’ll um, I’ll be right back.” He said before turning and leaving her there to watch the doors swish closed behind him, her mind wondering even more what was bothering him.

 

* * *

 

It was Stein who found Sara. Of course he had a little help from Gideon, but that was only after he spent roughly ten minutes trying to get the blonde to open her bedroom door. When he’d finally had enough of her ignoring him he’d asked the AI if she had the ability to open the door, to which she replied that Sara wasn’t even in her bedroom. Feeling rather foolish he asked Gideon if she knew where Sara was, and of course she did. It had initially surprised the older man to hear that his captain was down in the cargo hold, but then again maybe it shouldn’t have. That was, after all, the very place where she and Mr. Snart used to sneak off to and play their card games. Perhaps the reason he was so surprised was that ever since Mr. Snart’s… passing… the cargo hold was no longer a location where one was likely to find Sara, unless she was scolding Dr.’s Heywood and Palmer for wrecking it of course. But yet it was precisely where he found her. She was sitting on the ground, her back against a crate, and a game of solitaire laid out in front of her. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her study the cards before her as though they held all the answers in the universe. She knew he was there, of that he was certain, but she said nothing and simply continued with her game. It was only after a few more minutes, when the unspoken tension began to grow unbearable, that Sara finally became the one to speak up.

“Can I help you Martin?” She asked, not looking up from her cards even as the professor fully entered the room.

“Forgive me for the intrusion Ms. Lance, I just wanted to make sure that you are alright.” He said, awkwardly as ever considering emotional confrontation never have been his strong suit.

Sara appeared to be just as aware of that as he was, if her scoff was anything to go by.

“Don’t see why I wouldn’t be,” she said, still refusing to look at him as she continued on with her game. “I was fine yesterday, I’m fine today.” She reasoned.

Stein gave a sigh of sympathy at her logic, and tried to think of something he could say that she would respond to.

“Of course you are,” he finally decided on, which did at least get her to look at him. “Why wouldn’t you be?” He continued as he lowered himself to the ground and took a seat across from her. “After all you’re the woman who quite literally has been to hell and back. Why wouldn’t you be perfectly fine after an incident as small as what happened in the library this afternoon?” He questioned in a tone that was almost harsh for him.

“First of all,” Sara began, “I don’t remember any sort of afterlife, as far as I know death was just this long, dreamless sleep for me.” She corrected, “Second of all, Leonard was a member of our team who sacrificed everything for us, do you expect anyone to be able to talk about him like his death was nothing?” She asked with a fiery glare, but Stein held it with a hard gaze of his own.

“To most of us he was Mr. Snart.” He reminded her and her eyes fell, a frown crossing her face.

“Yeah well… I think I already told you him and me were on a first name bases.” She mumbled, absently shuffling the cards that remained in her hands.

“Hm,” Stein acknowledged her words, “Yes, I suppose I should have figured that out after your confession regarding the Oculus.” He said but Sara said nothing. “Or rather directly before it.”

Sara now sighed at his words, keeping her eyes trained on her cards and away from his at any cost. He was watching her, waiting for her to open up to him, and as badly as she wanted to she was still afraid. She hadn’t spoken a word about her feelings for Leonard to anyone, not even to Mick. She had mourned him just like the others had, though due to her sister’s death around the same time the team attributed her extra requests for space to her sadness over Laurel, never once even considering that she was missing Leonard with equal fervor. Eventually she pushed herself through the pain, as they all did, but there were still two large gaping holes in her heart.

“Sara,” Stein said in an almost pleading voice, getting her to finally look up at him and see the worried expression on his face. She decided that he wasn’t going to give this up, or maybe he was but she didn’t want him to. In any case she swallowed the lump that had been forming in her throat ever since he walked in, trying to find her voice.

“He came to my room, before the Oculus.” She began her confession. “I guess, technically, no one really won your bet, but this is as close as you’re gonna get.” She admitted before wiping away a tear that she wanted to curse. “We started talking about the Time Masters pulling our strings, well sort of. He made a comment about it and I told him that knowing about it didn’t change the fact that all the horrible things I’ve done keep me up at night, and he told me that for him it was the opposite; that it was the things he didn’t do keeping him up at night.” She took a second to inhale a shaky breath, trying to control the tears that seemed to have come on so suddenly. “I asked him what he meant, and he said that he had started to wonder what the future might hold for him. And me… and him and me.” She explained and Stein’s hard gazed finally softened, though it was obvious that he was still curious.

“And what did you say?” He inquired and at that, at the reminder of what very well might be the most regretted moment of her life, Sara sniffled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted, “I did what I do best, I left.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, Sara not trusting her voice to say anything more and Stein not knowing what he could possibly say to help her. But the silence was even more unbearable than before.

“When I saw him put his hand on that bomb,” She finally spoke up, admittedly with a crack in her voice. “It didn’t hurt. He was still in front of me, there was nothing I could do, but he was there.” Her voice was increasing in pitch now, the tears in her eyes becoming evident through her words. “And when the Oculus blew, when he was gone-” She cut herself off, sniffling and wiping away the tears that had slipped free. She couldn’t say anything more, not without falling apart completely.

 

Stein looked at her with an expression of pure heartbreak. He had known, they all had, that there had been a mutual attraction between Sara Lance and Leonard Snart back when the latter was still with them. They had also known that there were many emotional barricades standing in the way of anything coming to fruition right away. But over the course of the mission, particularly after Mr. Rory’s temporary betrayal, they had both changed as people and some of those barriers seemed to disappear. Stein, however, hadn’t realized just how much. To hear that Mr. Snart had apparently actually taken a leap of faith and suggested something that he no doubt knew would change their relationship forever, well at the very least it was safe to say that he had lost the bet.

 

Wiping at her eyes some more Sara determined that she wasn’t going to be able to pull herself together and save her pride, so she steeled herself and hoped that her walls would hold for five seconds as she rose to her feet and walked out of the cargo hold.

 

* * *

 

When Mick returned to his room he found Amaya munching on the crackers, to which he gave a small half smile.

“What?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Nothing,” he replied, “I was just starting to worry that I might have to start forcing food down your throat.” He mocked and she responded by swallowing what was in her mouth before sticking her tongue out at him.

That, of course, only served to make the arsonist chuckle as he tossed the new bottle of water at his friend. The bottle landed next to her but Amaya paid it no mind, her focus was still trained on Mick.

“What?” He asked, not missing for even a second that he was locked under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Every time I think I have you figured out, I haven’t even scratched the surface.” She mused in response to his questioned and he only gave a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows.

“Thought you figured me out after Japan?” He half mocked as he crossed the room and settled in a sitting position next to her on the bed, her eyes trained on him the entire time.

“So did I,” she said, “But you seemed pretty interested in that closed door earlier.”

He frowned at the words, knowing that he couldn’t tell her that he hadn’t been looking at the door at all. She may have said that he could tell her if something was troubling him, but that’s only because she has no idea what it was. The team already thinks he’s a lost cause in the brains department; Amaya is probably the only one who still sees him as a person instead of a freaking bomb that could go off at any second. He can’t take the risk of changing that by telling her he’s seeing a ghost, and even more so he can’t take the risk of her telling someone. That would really screw him over. So no, this has to be his secret.

“It was nothing,” he finally decided to tell her, lying of course.

“Nothing or none of my business?” She asked while opening the water bottle and taking a long sip, as if to give him time to think on his answer.

“None of your business,” He answered honestly and she nodded as she placed the cap back on the bottle.

“Fine,” she replied before standing up and grabbing the box of crackers. “Thanks for taking care of me.” She said the words in an icy voice, meeting Mick’s questioning gaze as she did and without another word and she left the room, leaving Mick to curse himself for being an idiot.

As usual.

 

* * *

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

Sara huffed in annoyance at the metallic banging sound coming from the opposite side of her closed bedroom door. Only looking up very briefly from what she was jotting down in her notebook before turning her attention back to it.

“If your last name is Stein, Jackson, or Heywood you can go away.” She called in hopes that regardless of if her visitor was one of the three or not the response would drive them off, the sound of the doors opening proved that it did not. Looking over her shoulder she huffed at the sight of who was now in her room. “What did I just say?” She demanded of Stein. It may have been two hours since her near meltdown in the cargo bay but that didn’t mean she was ready to face the professor again just yet.

Still, he did at least appear to be equally unready for this conversation if the way he was standing awkwardly just inside her doorway was anything to go by, which made Sara wonder even more why he was here at all.

“What are you doing?” He finally asked in an attempt to ease some of the tension. Sara sighed and went back to her notes, willing at least for now to humor the older man.

“Jotting down some of the places we’ve stopped aberrations, starting with 1942. I figure at the most some place we’ve already been might end up being important in the fight against Darhk, the speedster, and Merlin. And at the least it should make for some interesting arguments assuming we ever find Rip.” She replied before looking back over her shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”

He sighed, awkwardly taking a few steps closer to her desk until he was standing directly over her, and even then he took a long moment to gather his thoughts.

“I wanted to apologize,” He confessed, which as expected had Sara looking at him in surprise. “While I told you that many of us believed something would inevitably develop between you and Mr. Snart, I at least didn’t realize how much it already had. I had no idea that he had all but asked for a future with you just hours before his death, or just how much that death must have impacted you.” He said and Sara nodded before rising to her feet.

“Well it impacted all of us, Leonard was a part of this team.” She replied, once again using the former thief’s first name and this time fully aware of what such a thing meant.

“Yes,” Stein agreed, although with a tone and a face that said he knew she was still trying to pass herself off as though she felt nothing greater than they did for their deceased teammate. “You know Sara it is ok for you, even as captain, to cry for those you have lost.” He said, “And for you to mourn them for what they truly were to you.” He continued but Sara said nothing, and so he moved to leave but just as he reached her door she called him back.

“I do,” she said, he stopped and turned around at the words to see her finally looking him the eye. She wasn’t crying, not even a little, but she looked almost broken. “Every night for the first three months, I cried myself to sleep.” She confessed, “It’s not every night anymore, but sometimes I still do.” She continued and Stein felt his heart break a little at the confession. “Sometimes it’s for Laurel, but at least she got a grave.” Now the tears were starting to well up in her eyes, tears that were fueled by fury and sadness in equal measures. “At least I had a body and a headstone to go back to and say goodbye.” She wiped at her eyes, “But Leonard,” Suddenly there was a fire raging in her wet eyes, and clenching her fists did nothing to calm it. “He just blew up… and that was it.” She concluded with a shake of her head and an almost mocking grin. “He’s gone. No body, no ashes, no nothing. Just a gun that Ray had to disassemble, a parka that we gave to his sister, and this stupid ring.” She listed, holding up her left hand with spread fingers so that Stein could see that one of her rings was not like the others, the rough and plain surface clearly not designed with a woman in mind.

“I’m sorry, did he-?” Stein began to ask but the blonde’s laugh cut him off.

“No Professor, he wasn’t that far ahead of himself when he asked about the future.” She assured him, “Mick gave it to me, said he would’ve wanted me to have something to remember him by.” She explained as she studied the ring, “Should probably give it back though, now that his keepsake is gone.” She mused, referring of course to the cold gun.

Stein was silent for a minute, not knowing what he could possibly say to comfort her, assuming that were even possible.

“Or don’t,” he finally spluttered and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Rory does have many years worth of memories to comfort him, you have merely a few months in comparison.” He reasoned but the way Sara slowly approached him with a stern look on her face made it clear that if he was going to convince her to be just a hair selfish, he was going to need a much better argument than that.

“Mick was his partner,” she deadpanned.

“And what were you?” Stein challenged,

“His friend,” she replied as though it was obvious, but Stein was having none of that.

“If you were merely his friend then we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he said, “He loved you Sara. Neither of you may have ever gotten around to saying it, but it was clear that he did. You have just as much a right to mourning him as Mr. Rory, never doubt that.” He told her sternly and that was when Sara did something that Martin never would’ve expected from her, she stood up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug.

Stein, while momentarily frozen, eventually wrapped his arms around her back and held her closely to him. Once upon a time he would’ve been very uncomfortable with this situation, and while he still was to a degree he did feel like he knew what he was doing just a bit, because he could now remember all the times he had held Lily like this.

 

* * *

 

Amaya shivered as she twisted her wet hair into a braid. She had been grateful to take a shower, needing one desperately after spending the entire day in the pajamas that she had been sick in all night she felt disgusting. The good news was that she had only thrown up once since leaving Mick’s room earlier and she was starting to feel as though that part of her illness was finally over. The bad news was that as her skin dried from the warm shower she felt colder and weaker than she had all day, meaning that she wasn’t in the clear yet and wouldn’t be until her fever broke. Just as she finished her braid a knock sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she called, turning around in her chair to greet her visitor only to frown when the door revealed Mick.

“You’ve gotta promise,” he all but growled, “Not to tell anyone.” He said and her face changed from one of disappointment to one of concern.

“Ok,” she agreed and he walked into the room, the doors swishing closed behind him as he went and sat on her bed.

He rung his hands together, anxiously trying to gather his thoughts and she watched him, but allowed him all the time that he needed.

“I’ve been seeing Snart.” He finally confessed, his voice more serious than Amaya had ever heard it.

She didn’t know much about Snart. When Ray showed up on the bridge right before they set off in 1987 with a new gun, one that every veteran member of the team looked weary of, she had asked Mick and all he said was that the gun had once belonged to a man named Snart; his old partner. She never asked beyond that, but she did make the assumption that the passing along of his gun meant that Snart was dead, and Mick’s confession now only sealed that conclusion.

“He keeps telling me to get out while I can,” the pyromaniac continued, “That I don’t belong on a team of heroes, and if I try to be one I’ll end up like him.”

“And what do you believe?” Amaya asked, leaning back in her chair ever so slightly.

“Other than I’m losing my mind?” Mick quipped while he considered her question. He had an answer, but it wasn’t one that he could share. He believed that love could make a man do stupid things, and in their line of work it would only be matter of time before it was Amaya’s life on the line. “I don’t know,” he finally settled on.

“Bullshit,” she called, he looked at her in surprise but she only met the gaze with seriousness. “I may not be able to read your mind Mick, but I know that there is something in it.”

He sighed at her words and briefly glanced at his still fidgeting hands and sighed, he was not good at conversations like this.

“Snart and I didn’t do feelings,” He deadpanned, “But then Snart did. All of a sudden it wasn’t just me and him against the world anymore, there were others involved… And we didn’t see eye to eye.” His voice rumbled lowly, “I’ll spare you the details-”

“Don’t,” she insisted, her gaze firm. “Tell me,” she continued and left little room for an argument, so he nodded, and he did as she asked.

 

He told her everything. Well actually he left out the part about his parents, but only because that had no place in this conversation. He told her all about his and Snart’s original agenda for the mission, then about Star City 2046, the pirates, being abandoned in the woods who knows where or when, being found by the Time Masters, his time spent at the Vanishing Point, his mission as Chronos, returning to the team, the Oculus, and then finally seeing Snart’s ghost over the past week.

 

By the time he finished Amaya had moved to sit next to him and they were leaning against the wall behind her bed. She had listened to his to his tale silently, her brow furrowed throughout most of it but she never once voiced a question. Once he was finished she remained silent, and while he was dying for her to say _something_ he had no intentions of rushing it. He let her take her time and draw her conclusion.

“That conditioning would have killed most men,” she finally commented and Mick nodded.

“What’s your point?” He asked, still waiting for her to be horrified by all the things that he had just told her.

“I knew you were strong Mick, and I knew you cared, but I didn’t know you had it in you to make it through something like that without losing yourself.” She admitted and the look she gave him, all through his story he had expected her to look at him with horror by the end. But all he saw in her eyes was undeniable respect.

That was the last straw for him; he leaned over and crashed his lips to hers. He felt her tense at first, but that was to be expected. What he realized he hadn’t expected until it happened was for her to pull away without reciprocating the kiss.

“Bad move?” He asked as he studied her stunned face.

“Depends,” she answered, her voice breathless from the surprise. “You do realize I’m still contagious, right?” She asked and all Mick could think to do was shrug.

“Like I said, I probably already caught it when you puked in the hall the morning.” He said, “Besides, don’t really care all that much.”

Amaya nodded in acceptance of the answer. “Good,” she replied before it became her turn to catch Mick off guard as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back to her, and this time the kiss didn’t end so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok well this was originally intended to just be a quick one-shot, yeah clearly that didn't happen. But i'm kind of glad I expanded it a little, as I ended up including a lot of ideas i hadn't even thought of at first! I hope everyone liked it, and sorry if it ever got a little too touchy-feely!


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